


til the truth unfolds

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bechdel Test Pass, Bisexual Female Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Female Homosexuality, Female Protagonist, Female Relationships, Female-Centric, Hurt/Comfort, POV Female Character, Past Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Past Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-17 21:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4682222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Emma sacrificing herself to the Dark One curse and disappearing into the night, Regina dedicates her every waking minute to saving the Savior.  But when strange things begin to happen, she doubts her sanity and her ability to save the woman she can't even admit she loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Applefreakx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefreakx/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Manifestations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739282) by [A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter). 
  * Inspired by [til the truth unfolds [Fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680320) by [Applefreakx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefreakx/pseuds/Applefreakx). 



> Date Written: 22 July to 3 September 2015  
> Word Count: 23114 per AO3  
> Written for: [SwanQueenBigBang](http://swanqueenbigbang.tumblr.com/)'s Three Dollar Bill Big Bang [aka fall 2015]  
> Based on: Manifestations  
> Artist: [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefreakx)**Applefreakx**  
>  Link to art: [coming soon]  
> Summary: In the aftermath of Emma sacrificing herself to the Dark One curse and disappearing into the night, Regina dedicates her every waking minute to saving the Savior. But when strange things begin to happen, she doubts her sanity and her ability to save the woman she can't even admit she loves.  
> Spoilers: Post-Season 4b finale canon divergent AU that picks up one week after Emma sacrifices herself to the Dark One curse to save Regina [and the town]. Any and all spoilers about S5 are summarily ignored at this point.  
> Warnings: Possible graphic depictions of violence, depression/vague suicide ideation  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: I'd originally had a completely different idea for this SQBB, but it didn't pan out in the end. So I got permission to expand my short story, "Manifestations", instead. This was really the first time I'd completed a pseudo-paranormal story, and I'm kind of proud of that. There were a couple points where I wasn't sure I'd get this done, but I'm so glad that I did. The entire time that I wrote this story, I listened to In This Moment's _Blood_ , in particular Track 10 "From the Ashes". In fact, the title of this story is a line from that particular track. Amusingly enough, the entire time I wrote this story and listened to the album, I got the seeds of another Dark Swan story brewing, so we'll see if that pans out or not.
> 
> Special thanks to [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/webgeekist/profile)**webgeekist** for the inspiration for a specific image in the final chapter. She knows _exactly_ which image it is. For the rest of you, let's just say that she's an evil wench who was trying to entice me into writing something other than my SQBB, so I compromised.
> 
> Dedication: My muses, as usual…
> 
> Beta: [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowRiddler/pseuds/RainbowRiddler)**RainbowRiddler** came through in a major way at the last minute when my usual betas were unable to tackle this beast.

Some days, just getting up is a burden. The idea of leaving the warm sanctity of my bed is tantamount to oral surgery without anesthetic. If it weren't for Henry, there'd be no reason to venture out. No, that's not true. There's another, very good reason for it, but sometimes it feels like it's not enough. Or maybe it's better to say that it feels like it's too much.

The walk to the bathroom feels far too long once again, but that's probably just the fatigue and the lack of a sense of accomplishment speaking so loudly in my skull and soul. Without thought, I pause to pull open the bottom drawer of the nightstand and remove the leather wrapped bundle. The much-despised jacket has become the best protective wrapping for the deadly blade.

"Dark One, I summon thee."

One heartbeat becomes two, then ten, thirty, sixty. 

"Emma Swan, I summon thee."

When another five minutes have passed with no discernible evidence of her appearance, the dagger is returned to its cocoon to be tucked safely in the drawer again. Disheartened, I trudge toward the bathroom to shower. It feels like forever before nightgown and panties are in the hamper, and hot water is cascading down my body. My arms take the brunt of the weight of my weight as my head hangs under the spray, water and hair obscuring the view around me. After a couple of moments, the almost mechanical process of sloughing off the detritus of this life begins in earnest. Citrus and rosemary scents waft on the warm air and surround me like a shaft of sunshine piercing the clouds. These are not the usual products I use, but I find them soothing and perhaps even empowering, if only because they remind me of the person missing from all of our lives. The person I've vowed to bring back, no matter the cost.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a warmed towel around damp flesh and face the mirror, unsure of just what damage will need to be covered up with judiciously applied makeup. Snow has gotten far too astute, for my taste, at seeing past the armor I erect. Even Charming's gotten better at it than expected. Or maybe I've just gotten too complacent around them. This whole redemption thing can be a real pain in the ass far more often than not. But Henry's smiles and continued belief in the good in me keep me going, even when I would rather roll over and die.

Bending over, my hands deftly twist my hair up into a towel. The thought of cutting it short flits through my head again, but I shake it off. There are far more important things to worry about right now than the length of my hair. Straightening again as I reach for the toothpaste, my hand hovers over it as the change in the mirror registers.

There, in crudely printed letters, is my name. Right at eye level. If I didn't know any better, I'd think Henry had snuck in while I showered to leave me a note, but the style of penmanship -- can you even call it that when it's printed by finger on a fogged mirror? -- most definitely isn't his. Besides, he knows better than to do something so frivolous, let alone to intrude on my privacy in the bathroom. Roland might not have learned that quite yet, but he hasn't stayed in this house for more than a night or two before being sent off to New York. I'm still not ready to consider anything since returning him to Storybrooke either.

No, it would seem that this is somehow a manifestation of my desire to get the Savior back from the clutches of the Dark One's curse. Some trick of magic and an exhausted mind. What else could it be?

"I won't stop until I get you back, Emma Swan." My words echo oddly in the room. "You are too important to too many people in this town for me to let you be destroyed by the darkness that should have consumed me."

The sensation of sunlight warming my back hits me, and I faintly smell leather and bear claws. Clearly I need either more sleep or more caffeine. Right now, the former is not in the cards.

"Caffeine it is then," I reply as if she's there behind me when my stomach grumbles. "But I am not eating one of those disgusting bear claws you covet. Some of us prefer to be healthy, you idiot."

The sensation of laughter surrounds me, stopping only when Henry knocks on my door to say he's started the coffee for me.

*****

Once Henry is dropped off at school, I can take a few moments to myself to reflect on what happened this morning. I know better than to keep my car at the school. Robin will be bringing Roland, and I've no desire to be around him right now. There are too many variables left dangling there, too many clues better left unsolved for the time being. My body moves by rote, the Mercedes Benz taking the familiar path out to the cemetery. Thankfully, few people actually come out here, particularly on a Tuesday morning. Taking my time, I kneel before a few headstones, removing leaves and trash blown in front of them: Johanna and Graham among them. I'm not proud of my past deeds, but I won't hide from them either.

Eventually making my way to the family mausoleum, I slip into the dimly lit building and pay proper obeisance to my parents' biers. No, not proper this time; there are no fresh flowers to set atop the curved surfaces. This prompts a reminder to bring extra tomorrow when I make my normal weekly visit to pay my respects. Needing busywork, my hands take to cleaning up after the flowers left last week. My brain puzzles over the events of this morning as I work.

Before I realize it, the rays of sunlight have slanted differently and the crypt looks far cleaner than it probably should. All my work has accomplished is a spotless family crypt, dirt-smeared clothing, a perspiring body, and more questions than answers. Pressing kisses to my fingers before setting them against the nameplates of both biers, I sigh softly and step out of the building. The soft breeze feels good against my warm skin, and I close my eyes to smile up into the sunlight, basking in it for a moment. Lounging against the wall in a way that Mother would loathe, I dig out my phone & type out a quick text.

                _I know this is short notice, but do you happen to have any free time today?_

Pressing send, the message wings its way off faster than the ravens I used to employ in the Enchanted Forest. There's no guarantee of a prompt reply, but this isn't exactly an emergency either. I just need an objective ear, and there are only two in the whole town that I can count on. Normally there would be four, but one is missing and the fourth is her father. And I don't like to rely on him excessively. It brings me into too much contact with Snow.

I don't want to leave the serenity of the cemetery. No one bothers me out here. In town, they all want to discuss their theories on getting the Savior back or give me sidelong glances when they think I'm not watching. I know they're torn over believing in my redemption, even after all this time, and their desire for me to return their beloved protectress from the hell she's in.

                _I actually have a two hour block in about 90 minutes. Will that work?_

Smiling at the message, my body sags in relief as I type up my reply and send it.

                _That would be perfect. I may need the full two hours. I'll see you then. Thank you._

*****

Rather than risk a repeat of this morning, magic gets my body clean. Changing into a pair of comfortable jeans with a white t-shirt and a vest, I pull my hair back into a low ponytail. And then I change my mind, plaiting the long strands into a French braid. Somehow that style feels better right now, and I need all the comfort I can get.

Foregoing my car, the walk into downtown does even more to help my equilibrium. A quick stop into Mo French's store ensures a double order of the red and yellow roses for my parents' biers tomorrow. And then I'm off to my appointment, contemplating a piece of Eugenia's chocolate silk pie afterward if she has any made.

"Regina?"

And with that one word, the tentative bubble of normalcy is burst. A deep breath and a squaring of my shoulders, then I turn face him. "Hook."

"Do you have any news on getting Swan back yet?"

There's a strange blend of condescension and whipped puppy hope in his eyes that rattles my nerves every time I see it. In retrospect, it's always been there, but it's been worse since the incident. He wants something I can't give him, but he won't take no for an answer. How on earth did Mother put up with him for so long without killing him or taking his heart?

"Don't you think that if I had any news, I would have shared it already?" I don't even care that my voice sounds harsh. When that whipped puppy look comes back, I resist the urge to punch him in the face. "What are _you_ doing to help bring her back, pirate? Besides mooning about and drinking all the rum you can find, I mean?"

He does a passable imitation of a carp for the span of a few heartbeats before obvious indignation and embarrassment color his already flushed face further. "How dare you say such a thing?" His face twists into a snarl as he leans in dangerously close. "If it wasn't for you and her incessant need to prove your goodness, she'd still be here and you'd be--"

"Finish that sentence, pirate," I growl, hands curling into fists at my sides, "and you'll make me lose control over that very same goodness. You don't want to know what I'll do to you if that happens."

He glares a moment longer, but when I lift a hand, he flinches and steps back. "This isn't the end of this, Your _Majesty_. I blame you for the loss of the best woman in this whole bloody land."

Before I can formulate a retort, he turns and lurches off toward the Rabbit Hole. A fitting spot for a contemptuous drunk like him. I'd burn it down with him in it, but there are too many good people who enjoy that locale. Tightening my fists in an attempt to regain control of myself, I can feel the disgust roiling around in my stomach, churning up more acid than anything else. My eyes close, blocking out the distraction of what feels like everyone staring at me after that little encounter. In reality, I have no idea if there's anyone else walking the downtown streets of Storybrooke right now.

"Regina?"

For a split second, I forget where I am and what I’m here for. The fireball springs readily in an upraised, open palm. And then the voice registers in my brain, the magic squelched, but my body is still as taut as a drawn bowstring. "I'm sorry, Archie."

"It's okay," he says, and I can hear the smile in his words. "Let's go inside and talk."


	2. Chapter 2

"Here's your tea, Regina."

I glance up at Archie with a sheepish grin, having lost myself in woolgathering while petting Pongo. I used to hate when he came to rest his head in my lap during my early sessions with the patient psychiatrist. And then I realized just how much more calm I felt, knowing that the dog trusted me not to hurt him. Taking the cup, I sip the herbal blend and let out a soft sigh of gratitude.

"So I must say I was a bit surprised to get your text this morning," Archie finally says. "You haven't been in for a session in a few months now. But I'm glad you chose to speak with me."

"You don't even know what I want to talk about."

He takes off his glasses and wipes the lenses clean before settling them on his face again. "That's very true, but something tells me it's something that's important to you, something you can't figure out on your own."

Another sip of tea, coinciding with Pongo's head resettling in my lap, bolsters my courage. "It's E-Emma." Wincing at my stumble over her name, I do my best to continue. "Well, she's involved. Part of me thinks I'm losing my mind."

"Emma's involved in you losing your mind? I must admit that I wasn't expecting that, Regina."

"I know," I reply, then let out a low, brittle chuckle. "I imagined her in my bathroom this morning while I was showering." And then I scrub at my face to hide the brief chuckle as Archie's cheeks go a bit pink at my words. "Nothing untoward, rest assured, but it felt like she was there."

With his gentle encouragement, the tale of my morning encounter comes out. There's a sense of comfort in the familiar scratching of his fountain pen against the legal pad he uses. It goes to great lengths to help me get everything out, and I know that he takes doctor-patient confidentiality very seriously. When everything is finally out, including my time at the crypt, I slump back into the couch with a soft sigh and scratch behind Pongo's left ear.

"Well, that's certainly quite a situation you've described. You truly believe it was Emma in your bathroom, and there's no saying that it wasn't her--"

"Then _why_ won't she come when I summon her with that damned dagger? I get that she likes to ignore the rules, but there are some that can't and _shouldn't_ be ignored."

"Do you think she's ignoring them on purpose? Trying to get a rise out of you or someone else?"

My mouth opens to answer him, but no words come out. Could it be possible? Could she really be that contrary?

"Are you saying she can circumvent the rules of the Dark One curse when even Rumpelstiltskin couldn't do it? I understand that she's the Savior and has the greatest light magic we've seen, but even that seems unlikely to be able to disregard millennia of accrued power like the dagger contains. No one's been able to resist that dark power before."

More scratching on the pad allows me the opportunity to take a final sip of my tea.

"But Emma's different," he finally says as he glances up at me. "She's the Savior, born of True Love, the most powerful magic of all. That much light magic was never meant to come into such intimate contact with the Dark One's magic like this."

I snort at that. "You make it sound like the ultimate clash of the Force within the Jedi and the Sith." The words are no more than out of my mouth when I groan, imagining the laughter of both Emma and Henry at my analogy. He chuckles then, no doubt having similar thoughts to mine. "I can't believe I just said that. They'd never let me live it down if they knew."

"I think it says a lot about how far you've come, Regina, if you can admit that." He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Now I want you to answer something for me, and I want you to be honest. Can you do that?"

"It depends on what you're going to ask," I say warily, even as my soul screams that I can trust this man not to hurt me intentionally.

"Fair enough. Can you _try_ for me?" When I nod, he smiles again. "If I hadn't come out to greet you earlier, would you have used that fireball on Hook?"

I look away at his question, feeling the shame burning beneath my skin. "I--" I pause to consider my words. "I'd like to say that I wouldn't have, but I can't. He pushes and pushes for me to do something, to bring the Savior back, but when push comes to shove, he does nothing to help. Rumpel's useless in his magical coma to help us with this and I honestly don't think he'd help if he _was_ conscious. He's been trying to get out from under that dagger's shackles for longer than any of us have been alive, outside of the pirate. Reul Ghorm keeps claiming that she knows nothing, but will have her fairies keep researching with Belle for ideas. She has had the damned Black Fairy's wand for how many centuries without saying a word?"

"You think she's hiding something?"

"I know that you have a special bond with her because of what she did for you, but I have no such connection with her. She and her followers repeatedly ignored me and my pleas. There is no love lost between me and the fairies, though I don't have the same contempt that I now know Rumpel has for them."

"You're not answering my question, Regina."

Rolling my eyes, I let out a soft snort of disgust. "I don't know if she's hiding something or not. I would think that, given her relationship with the Charmings and Emma, she'd be forthcoming with any information she has."

"But?"

"But I'm the one asking for help. She grudgingly works with me because it's what Snow wants to happen, but I don't think she trusts me because of both my association with Rumpelstiltskin and my blood connection to my mother. I know there's a part of her that feels I will never be anything but evil, no matter what I do. And so many of the townspeople look to her and the Charmings for guidance…"

"You worry that they feel the same way about you."

Gently shifting Pongo's head aside, I stand and begin to pace. "What else am I supposed to think? They trot me out on my pretty little leash when I'm useful to them, then shove me aside as dangerous and distrustful when I'm not."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" he asks, pen still flowing across the page. "You know that Snow White and Charming don't believe that about you, and haven't for some time now."

"For some time now." That causes me to laugh. "They thought I cast the curse again after we lost an entire year of our lives in the Enchanted Forest. It wasn't until we got our memories returned that we learned the truth, but some still believe I was the mastermind behind it."

"And you've been working hard to counteract that, Regina. You know you have. Henry and the Charmings are staunch supporters of yours, as are the Lucas women and myself. I think even Robin Hood and his Merry Men support you."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure of that anymore." The pain of that decision still sits uneasily in my gut, even though I know I was right in making it. "Their loyalty is to their leader first and foremost. I'm not exactly in good standing with him or them right now."

"So you've chosen not to take him back then?"

I shrug, feeling the weight of the world settle on my shoulders again. "He may be a man of honor, but his methods are suspect lately. He puts Zelena and that baby first. He practically called me a liar. He--" The words stop in my throat, tears constricting my ability to speak, even to breathe for long moments. When I'm finally able to speak again, my throat feels raw, my tone harsh. "He wants me back, says he loves me, but I can't get past the fact that he keeps putting me second to everyone else."

"And you deserve better than that, Regina. You and I both know that. In his own way, I bet Robin knows that, too."

"Maybe he does. I don't know, and right now, I'm not sure I _want_ to know. I have been charged with breaking the hold of the Dark One curse on Emma, and I really can't have any distractions from that mission. Too many people are expecting me to succeed, but--"

"But you feel they also want you to fail," he supplies when I don't continue. All I can do is nod, fighting back frustrated tears. "I don't think that's what they want, Regina. I think I have a little bit of a better feel on the general consensus of the town. They all want you to succeed, yes, but they're not rooting for you to fail. We've talked about this before, you know. A handful of people with a grudge do not equate to the whole town."

Exhaustion presses on my soul as I make my way back to the couch. Pongo actually climbs up onto the cushions this time to settle his head in my lap with a heavy canine sigh. It brings a smile to my lips, and I stroke his fur gently.

"You could make a pretty penny if you let Pongo hold a few sessions of his own with your patients. He just seems to know what I need."

That brings out one of Archie's bemused laughs. "I hadn't really thought about it that way, but I've always trusted his judgment about people. He's rarely wrong. He's been right about you for a few years now, you know."

"I wish he could help me find a way to help Emma." I lose myself in petting him for a moment or two again before speaking. "Do you think she was really there in my bathroom?"

"I think the better question is whether or not you believe it, Regina. But if you want my opinion on it, I'd have to say that you're not showing any signs of an impending psychotic break. Fatigue and an amplified sense of responsibility and guilt for what's happened, yes, but nothing that would endanger your sanity. Does that help?"

His words wash over me as a soft smile curls up my lips. "It's not quite the answer I wanted, but it will suffice for now. Do-- Do you have any open slots to pick up where we left off before? I think I could use something positive to focus on during all of this."

"You find our sessions positive?" I don't have to look at him to know he's smiling at that. "I happen to have your old timeslot still open if that works for you."

Nodding, I meet his gaze again and blink back the blur of new tears. "Yes, it does. I'd like to keep that same time please. It gives me a bit more of a routine again. There are a number of things I'd like to discuss, and you're the most objective ear in town."

"You know you have others."

"I know I do, but you were the first person to reach out to me without any sort of selfish reasons after the curse. And most of my other trusted confidantes are too close to the situation at hand. I don't want to burden them or make them doubt if I can do this. I already have enough of that for the whole town."

"Well, I know the first thing we'll start working on in our new sessions. You're a good person, Regina, and you are the most capable person for this duty set before you. You just need to be reminded that you have a support structure when you stumble."

He's right. Too bad I keep ignoring that advice.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time I'm ready to try contacting Emma again, two days have passed since the incident in the bathroom. So far, only Archie knows what happened, and that's fine with me. I don't even feel comfortable sharing it with Henry. It feels too personal, too intimate to share with anyone else. And, despite Archie's reassurances to the contrary, it still makes me feel like I'm losing my mind when I think about it.

Hook's managed to avoid me since our last encounter, which is more than fine with me. Just the thought of him right now makes my blood boil. What has he done in all of this, other than show his true cowardly colors when push comes to shove? He has no qualms in throwing me to the darkness, but keeps bleating on about how he gave up his ship for Emma and how he needs to stay away from his darker influences so that he's still worthy of her love.

"Hey, Mom!" Henry says as he gets into the car after school. There's a curious tilt to his head that reminds me of Emma. "You okay? You've seemed kind of off the last couple days. Is the magic kicking your as-- your butt?" He grins sheepishly at his slip up.

"That slip up just cost you two days of your Xbox." I lean over to kiss his cheek, accepting his warm hug gratefully. It's indescribable how good I feel when he gets willingly affectionate like that again. "And a dollar to the swear jar."

"But that jar's for Ma!" A quirk of my brow has him biting his lip and nodding. "Yeah, I know, it's for all of us. But Ma and Grampa fill it the most."

That makes me chuckle as I pull away from the curb. "That's very true. And it's gotten us pizza parties twice already, hasn't it?"

"It's a bummer Hook doesn't play. He'd get us a pizza party probably once a week."

Pausing at a stop sign, I turn to study his profile. "Henry, will you answer something for me? I want you to be honest, even if you think the truth will hurt me, okay?" When he nods, I take a deep breath and continue. "Is Emma truly happy with him?"

Henry is quiet for a moment or two, and a quick glance from the corner of my eye shows his face is scrunched up in concentration. "I'm not sure? I mean, she acts like this is what makes her happy, but sometimes it feels like she's just doing it because people expect it, like she's just being polite. Does that make sense?"

"Actually, it makes a lot of sense to me, Henry. That's a very astute observation, too. I'm proud of you and how much you've matured over the last few years."

"Thanks, Mom," he says with a broad grin, then giggles. "And yes, I know better than to try to weasel out of my punishment because of it."

That has me laughing with him. "Yes, you're definitely growing up. Too bad we can't get your other mother to understand that whole concept of not weaseling out of my punishments."

Too soon the mood sobers again as the spectre of Emma looms between us. Henry wasn't even there that night, but he's told me several times now in the past week and a half since it happened that he felt something was wrong. He's had nightmares a few times, which have given me a reason to focus on something other than my own tormented sleep. But I don't like that he feels any loss from his other mother. He's lost enough in his lifetime already.

"Hey, is that Roland skipping on the sidewalk?"

Henry's question pulls me from my thoughts as I turn up Mifflin toward the house. Following his line of sight, I can see the little boy picking up a rock to toss it before bouncing after it. As we get closer to the house, I can see his father crouching nearby, but can't positively say if it's to be closer to his son… or to hide from me until the last minute. Pulling into the driveway, I park the car and take my time getting out of the car. As if sensing the tension, Henry reaches over to squeeze my hand.

"Do you want me to distract Roland for a while so you can talk to Robin?"

No child of his age should be so cognizant of his parents' uncomfortable romantic lives. I paste on a smile for him, sure he's perceptive enough to see past it, but old habits die hard. "Thank you for that, Henry, but let's see how this plays out first, okay?"

As we get out of the car, Roland lets out a loud squeal of my name and races over to wrap his arm around my hips, hugging me tightly. Without thought, I return the hug and lean over to pick him up. He's definitely getting bigger again. Clearly, another growth spurt has hit since we brought them back from New York. His arms go around my neck now and he giggles when I kiss his cheek. No matter what happens between his father and me, I will always have a soft spot for this little boy.

"We beat you home, Regina!" he says and points to his father. "Papa said he wasn't sure if we would."

"So you did," I reply, smiling warmly at him. I completely ignore his father for as long as I can. "To what do I owe this surprise visit from one of my most favorite people in all of the lands?"

"It's ice cream day." His answer is so matter-of-fact, I can't help but chuckle. "I want chocolate sprinkles and bubblegum. Can we do that, Regina? Papa said I should ask you and say please."

His dimples always make me melt. He knows very well how to use them. I glance at his father then, unsure of what I'll find on that face. The hard set of his jaw juxtaposed with the upward curve of his brows is hard to determine, but I have a feeling I know what he wants.

"Well, I suppose we could have some ice cream, but the ice cream shop is closed until someone new decides to run it."

"I can make a small sundae to share with Roland, Mom," Henry says with an awkward grin, and it hits me that he likes spending time with the little boy. "I promise I'll clean up the kitchen after we're done and won't make it too big to spoil dinner."

Glancing between the two boys, I finally roll my eyes and nod. "All right. One small sundae to share. If either of you boys don't finish your dinners, I'll have to cease all future shared sundaes."

Roland kisses my cheek, squeezing my neck tightly before wiggling to get down. The second his feet touch the ground, he's off to take Henry's hand. They start toward the house when Robin clears his throat, causing Roland to stop and look back at me with a sheepish grin. "Thank you, Regina. We'll be good, I promise." With that, he lets Henry lead him into the house.

Leaving me to stand on the driveway with Robin barely fifteen feet away from me. The scuff of his boots against the asphalt alerts me to his nearing presence, but I still can't look at him. Busying myself with getting my briefcase from the car and locking the doors affords me a few extra minutes of respite, but I can't hold this out for too much longer without attracting unwanted attention.

"I'm sorry," he says softly when he's within touching distance. "Roland's been feeling very confused and wanted to have ice cream with you again so badly. He really enjoyed when we used to do that."

Pasting on that fake, bright smile again, I finally face him. "It's all right. He's young and has had a lot of upheaval in his life in the past few months."

"I've wanted to call you…" The rest of his thought trails off, unspoken and hanging heavily between us.

"I've been busy with my research and trying to return the town to some semblance of order after Snow's disastrous turn as mayor. And Henry is always my top priority, of course."

"Of course." He takes a step closer and reaches out to take my left hand in his, callused fingers stroking my skin. "You've taken to wearing the emerald on your left hand again."

That brings me up short. I have absolutely nothing to give as a reason either, and pray that he doesn't ask that question. And then the lie tumbles out. "My right hand's a little swollen. I feel naked without the ring, so I switched hands."

He glances toward the house, then the street, and finally back at me. "Would it be possible for us to speak inside? I promise that once Roland's finished his treat with Henry, we'll respect your wishes if you want us to leave."

*****

In the end, they stay for dinner because I'm weak and can't refuse Roland's hopeful little smile. He reminds me so much of Henry at that age. No child should have to go through what he has already. The meal is awkward enough that even Henry can feel it, but he gamely tries to keep things light for everyone by keeping Roland entertained.

By the time, I see them to the door, my emotional reserves are nearly tapped out, which means Robin's kiss on the cheek raises my hackles. I rest my forehead against the wood after he's gone, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Mom? You okay?"

Henry. Leave it to my smart son to want to help. Pushing off to a fully upright position again, I turn to walk up to where he stands at the top of the landing. "Not entirely, but I will be. Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome," he says and pulls me into a hug. "I'm sorry for encouraging Roland about the ice cream and everything. I just reacted without thinking."

"No, it's all right. I needed to have that talk with Robin."

Before I can say anything else, my phone buzzes. Pulling it out, I see the text message.

                _I'm sorry, Regina. I'll be stricter with Roland about unannounced visits in the future._

My own reply is slow in coming, but necessary.

                _I'm sorry, too. Perhaps in another lifetime, things could have been different._

And then I debate shutting off my phone for the night, but that would only delay the inevitable of his messages if he sends any more. Stuffing it in my pocket, I smile at Henry. "How are you doing for homework?"

"Just one last chapter to finish reading of _1984_ and then answering the worksheet to be caught up with the assignment that's due on Monday, and I'm almost done with it."

"Will you be able to get it done this weekend?"

"I'm probably gonna go finish the chapter tonight and work on the questions tomorrow during lunch or free period. I'd read ahead in the book, but the assignments aren't handed out too far in advance and I don't know if I'll remember stuff by the time I get them."

That makes me smile. "You are a wonderful son, Henry Mills. I hope you know just how much I love and cherish you."

His face scrunches up at my words, despite the gleam of pride in his eyes. "Are you gonna get all mushy and kiss me now or something?"

"You look so much like your mother right now." The words are out in a wistful tone before I realize I've said them. Part of me wants to take them back, but another part of me feels an odd sense of relief that the thought is out in the open.

"You miss her, don't you?" he whispers, resting his forehead against mine. When did he get so tall? "It's okay if you do, Mom. I miss her, too. But I believe in you and I know you'll find a way to bring her back to us. You got us back from New York when everybody thought it was hopeless. You can do this, too."

I nod as my hand rests over his heart. I can feel the pull of his own brand of magic tugging at mine. "The heart of the truest believer is just as strong as ever," I whisper. "You have enough belief for all of us sometimes, I think."

"Let me try to summon her this time?"

"Henry…"

"No, I'm serious. You'll be right there with me. Maybe if we do it together, she'll hear us better and come back."

Just as so many times in the past, I'm helpless to stop his enthusiastic belief in the good of humanity at large, and his family in particular.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mom?" Henry's voice wafts down the stairs the next morning. "Have you seen my copy of _1984_?"

"No," I reply, flipping the bacon slices over. "Where did you leave it last?"

He comes stomping down the stairs like a herd of elephants. "It was on my nightstand. I set it there after I finished my chapter last night."

Turning to face him, I smile at the hair sticking up at unruly angles despite his brushing. "Breakfast isn't quite ready yet, so why don't you go up and see if it slipped under your bed during the night. You know you get restless sometimes."

He nods and heads back upstairs. Letting the bacon continue to fry, I pour him a glass of orange juice and add just a hint of maraschino cherry juice to it for a special treat. Last night's attempt to summon Emma ended just as pathetically as the other attempts made. Apparently it doesn't matter who makes the effort, she just won't show up. It was a particularly painful blow for Henry, so sure that he could bring her back just by believing.

"Nope," he says as he reenters the kitchen, pulling me from my thoughts. "It's not up there."

"Do you need it for school today?"

Shaking his head, Henry settles on one of the stools and grins when he notices his juice. "Sunset juice! Thanks, Mom!"

"You're welcome, Henry. Breakfast is almost done."

The next several minutes are spent in eating our breakfast. It feels good to spend this time with him today. I need to remember that he's just as important as getting Emma back. There's no good in letting our relationship falter because of that. Once we've eaten, the dirty dishes go into the dishwasher and we start to gather up our things for the day.

"Don't forget I have a half day today, Mom," Henry says as he picks up his backpack. "Do you want me to come home or go to your office?"

"It's up to you. I have my appointment with Archie later this morning, but I should be done about the time you're out of school. We could meet at Granny's and have a late lunch, if you'd like, and afterward you can decide if you want to stay with me or come home."

He lights up at that. "Really? I'd like that. I love when we can have lunch together." Then he wrinkles his nose. "Does that make me sound like a little kid?"

"It makes you sound like a son who likes to spend time in public with his mother," I reply, kissing his forehead. "Let's go."

We head to the door and he opens it, then stops dead in his tracks. "What the--" Bending over, he picks something up and turns to face me, the missing book in his hand. "How did this get outside?"

"Are you sleepwalking suddenly? Am I going to have to put up the baby gate across the top of the staircase again?"

Shooting me a dirty look that is purely my influence, he stuffs the book into his backpack and heads to the car as I lock the door, then follow him. The drive to his school is silent, and I can see that he's puzzling over something.

"Penny for them?"

"Hmm? Oh! Just trying to figure out how my book ended up outside. Maybe Ma did it to make sure that I wouldn't forget it?"

"I suppose that's possible. It sounds like the kind of practical joke she might pull on you." While my words aren't exactly a lie, there's a grain of unreality to them that makes me uncomfortable. "Or maybe there was a rogue stray thought of mine in my sleep that did it?" Again, not something that normally would happen, but what else could be the cause?

"Yeah." He shrugs and grins at me. "So what can I have for lunch at Granny's? Monster burger and fries with a chocolate milkshake? For Ma?"

Rolling my eyes as I pull up to the curb, I chuckle. "How about let's see how I feel after my appointment, okay? Maybe I'll even split one of those special pizzas that Ruby makes for you."

"That would be awesome, Mom!" He leans over to kiss my cheek and hug me tightly. "I'm really glad you're talking to Archie again. I know it helped you before."

Before I can formulate a reply, he's out the door and running up to join Paige by the big oak tree. He turns back to wave at me, a broad smile on his face. Returning the gesture, I head to my first meeting of the day, one that I'm not looking forward to, but is a necessary evil. I stop off at Granny's to get a cup of coffee, and grab a bear claw at the last minute. Ruby's eyebrow raises, but she says nothing as she rings me up. And then I'm off toward the convent to begin another boring morning of fights and research with Reul Ghorm.

*****

"Look," I say after nearly thirty of the most uncomfortable minutes I've spent in a long time. "We're here for the common goal of getting Emma back. If you can't put aside your petty issues, with me or anyone else, then you don't need to be here."

"That's rich, coming from the bi--"

"Finish that sentence and you'll need a second hook, pirate."

"Are you two quite finished?" The head fairy has a 'just ate a case of lemons' look on her face again. It would be comical if it wasn't partially aimed at me. "Or do I need to do something drastic to make you both behave?"

"Can you muzzle him?" I ask snidely. "Or better yet, put him outside on a leash?"

"I mean it, Your Majesty. I understand that tempers are running high with the lack of leads, but I will not stand by and allow this anger to run rampant in my domain."

I raise both hands in acquiescence and return to the book in front of me. I can feel the dagger's power calling to me from within my briefcase. If I'd known the handless wonder would be here, I wouldn't have brought it with me. The seductive whisperings of the evil that claimed Emma catch me off-guard and I half-wonder if it isn't feeding on Hook's misplaced anger.

"Why does _she_ get to dictate how everything happens here?"

"Because she's the most powerful magic user here that can wield both light and dark magic," Charming replies. "Look, I get that you miss Emma, we all do. Being drunk and belligerent isn't going to help us find a way to get her back. You can either calm down and actually be useful to us or you can leave."

Hook grudgingly quiets down and goes back to reading the book in front of him. I smile gratefully at Charming, and he reaches over to squeeze my hand before returning to his own research. After another fifteen minutes or so, Hook closes his book and stands up.

"I'm not even sure why I came," he says as he heads for the door, "other than wanting answers on when we get Swan back. Charming, mate, I trust you'll keep me informed on that, yeah?"

When Charming nods, Hook sketches a half-bow toward our hostess before walking out, pointedly ignoring me. That's just fine with me. The palpable discomfort in the room quickly dissipates, and I find myself more willing to pull out the dagger.

*****

"So Henry's book was outside the front door?"

"I know it sounds crazy, Archie, but it was there. Neither of us left the house. I checked the logs on the security system. There was no movement near the front door after Robin and Roland left. And--" I bite off the rest of that thought, unwilling to fully give it voice for fear of censure.

"And what?" When I shake my head and remain silent, he looks up at me. "What aren't you sharing with me, Regina? You know I won't pass judgment on anything you say to me. After all this time--"

"It's not that," I say, cutting him off. "I know you won't. I just feel very vulnerable in saying it."

He nods slowly, then gets up to grab an extra legal pad and pen from his desk. Handing them to me, he smiles encouragingly. "Perhaps it'll be easier to write it down? At least give me an idea of where this is heading?"

Taking the items, I stare at the pad for a moment before writing down seven words.

_The dagger's begun to talk to me._

I clutch the pad to my chest for a bit, fighting the urge to tear the sheet into tiny pieces and take this information to my grave. Expelling a heavy sigh, I hand it over to him and wait for his reaction. He studies it for a moment, then looks up to offer the same scrutiny to my face. I resist looking away, forcing myself to openly meet his gaze. If he's going to deem me unstable, then I'll face it head on like Mama taught me.

"You're sure about this?" The second I nod my head, he starts scratching away on his pad. "And when did this start happening?"

"Last night, I think."

"You think?"

As I begin to explain the situation, my mind goes back to last night, to the dreams that plagued my sleep: Emma in pain, Emma lost and alone, Emma losing the battle to the darkness. And then I ask the question that Henry had posed mostly in jest. "Is it possible that this is some sort of manifestation of being connected, through Henry, to Emma and the Dark Curse by proxy? Am I causing magic to happen unconsciously?"

"It's a possibility, of course, but I'm not sure that's what this is." He pauses to sip at the cup of tea on the table in front of him. "Why would it take nearly two weeks after the Dark Curse consumed Emma for the dagger to begin speaking to you or causing things to happen?"

Dread writhes like so many snakes in the pit of my stomach. "Because Emma's losing the battle to the darkness. She may be the Savior and have the strongest light magic, but what is tethered to that dagger is the darkest magic known to mankind. She has no backup, no support system, and no prior incarnation of the Dark One has been able to resist that magic to date."

"But she _does_ have backup, Regina. She has you, and Henry, and everyone else in this town. She just needs to remember that."

"I hope you're right. Because if you're not, when the darkness taints her light magic, it could tear the very fabric of reality to shreds."

He blanches at that, flinching back into his chair. Admirably, he recovers quickly. "Then we'll have to make a concerted effort to ensure that doesn't happen, won't we?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you have anything to make a person remember their dreams?"

The room goes eerily silent as the writing stops and Archie looks up at me. His brow is furrowed in confusion as he stares at me for a moment before answering. "I would have expected you to ask about something to forget dreams, not remember them. Is that something you need, Regina?"

I want to remain strong, not let anyone see the depths I've sunk to this past month in my desperate need to bring Emma back to everyone. I don't want them to see me as weak or unable to fulfill this unspoken demand of theirs. But this is the one man who hasn't actively placed those demands on me. In fact, he's the only one who's been more concerned with my wellbeing than with the progress of finding a solution.

"I don't know," I finally admit softly. My eyes drop to the top of Pongo's head in my lap again, the ache of a headache pounding behind my eyes.

"Why don't you try telling me what you mean?"

Still unable to meet his gaze, I let the words come out as they will. It feels like an out of body experience of some sort as I am witness to my own desperation and confusion. The room seems dim to me, but I know that must be some trick of my exhaustion or the headache that's been plaguing me for what feels like forever now. Looking closer at this other me, I can see the lie of the makeup trying to cover dark bags under my eyes. What I wouldn't give to wake up feeling refreshed after a full night's sleep.

"We could always try hypnosis or some lucid dreaming techniques," Archie says, pulling me back into my body. "I'd rather go one of those routes than medication that would likely cause more issues than resolving this one."

"Do you think hypnosis would work? I've always been a bit leery of it. It speaks too closely to mind control to me."

He smiles and launches into a history of hypnosis and its practical applications toward this type of situation. Part of my brain pays attention to every word he says, committing it to memory, determining what questions I should ask for further clarification. The rest of my brain lets go, just concentrating on staying awake and upright when all I want to do is curl up on this couch, rest my head on Pongo's side, and sleep for the next week straight. But I know I can't do that. Or maybe it's better to say that I know I won't do that. Whatever this is that's causing my restless sleep is slowly killing me and making me want to never wake up again.

"And the hypnotic suggestion would differ from the lucid dreaming how exactly?"

That gives him another opportunity to give further discourse to that logical part of my brain that never seems to sleep. I want to close my eyes so badly right now. Pongo's warm head in my lap feels so good, like a water bottle when I'm not feeling well.

"Regina, are you sure you're all right?"

"No," I finally admit, meeting his gaze openly. "I could pass out right now, I'm so exhausted."

He glances at his watch, then consults his phone. "I don't have another appointment this afternoon. Why don't you just stretch out on the couch and nap." Before I can protest, he smiles and continues. "Consider it research for me. I can observe while you sleep and see if there's something to suggest sleepwalking or anything of the kind. Just an hour or two will be beneficial to us both in this respect, and probably far less invasive for you than a video camera set up in your bedroom to monitor you."

"I have work--" I can't even finish the sentence, knowing it for the lie it is. I won't be able to concentrate on my work any better than I do already. Thank the gods that Snow still occasionally likes to keep her hands in the cookie jar, so to speak. "I suppose I can give it a try."

His smile grows broader. "Good. And I know Pongo will enjoy it, too. He really has taken quite a shine to you. If he ever gets loose, I know where to look first."

Glancing down at the dog snuggled up next to me, I smile. "He's been a very calming influence for me." And then I meet Archie's gaze again. "But I'm sure you knew that already. He's been here next to me from the very first appointment." A sudden yawn cracks my jaw, and I feel the embarrassment warming my cheeks. "Perhaps an hour or two would be all right."

"If you need to clear anything with your office, you can. I'll make you a cup of chamomile tea and grab a blanket and pillow from the closet."

As he goes about his preparations, I send an email to my assistant and explain that I have another appointment to deal with, that I'm going to finish work from home and don't wish to be disturbed unless there's an emergency that Snow can't handle. That finished, I send Snow a similarly worded email, but imply that I'm doing research into getting Emma back. I find that to be less deceitful than what I've told my assistant. Through all of this, Pongo lies quietly next to me, soulful brown eyes gazing up at my hands in an obvious way. As soon as my confirmation emails come from Snow and my assistant, I set my phone on the coffee table and pet Pongo's head again.

"You deserve something special for being so good to me, you handsome pooch," I say, then chuckle as his tail starts thumping. "Yes, you like that idea, don't you?"

Archie steps back into the office to hand me the cup of tea. "Sip this slowly. I added a bit of valerian to help you sleep. Sorry for the smell."

"Valerian doesn't actually bother me, not compared to some other things." I take a sip, letting the flavors mellow on my tongue for a moment. "Thank you, Archie."

"Be right back with the rest."

He slips out of the room again as I continue to drink the tea, Pongo's solid presence soothing my nerves further. When Archie sets the pillow and blanket on the end of the couch, I smile my thanks at him. In just a few moments, the cup is empty and I actually feel like I could drift off any minute now. Pongo gets up as I arrange the pillow and stretch out on the couch, blanket spread over my body. My back is pressed to the back of the couch, which allows my canine friend to settle next to me. It's a tight fit, but I don't mind. He makes me feel safe, and that's exactly what I need right now.

"I'll just be working on some files while I observe you, Regina. If you need anything, just let me know. I'll wake you in a couple of hours if you don't do it yourself naturally."

"Thank you, Archie," I reply, resting my hand on Pongo's head as my eyes slide closed.

*****

The _experiment_ lasts nearly four hours before Archie has to wake me to go get Henry from school. Oddly enough, it's some of the best sleep I've had since this whole situation started, and I tell him as much.

"If you'd like, I can let you borrow Pongo to get some sleep," he says with a knowing grin as the dog's tail begins to thump against the cushion and my calves. "I'm sure Henry would be thrilled to have him around, too."

"As tempting as that is, I think I'll pass for now, but thank you for the offer." I shift to shit up, letting out a quiet giggle as Pongo huffs and reluctantly moves to let me up so I can attempt to fold the blanket with him still half in my lap. "I don't want to ruin a good thing and have Pongo get bored of me."

"I highly doubt that will happen, but the offer still stands whenever you need him," he says as I set the blanket and pillow aside. "You barely moved at all while you slept, though I suspect that was at least partially due to Pongo having you relatively pinned in place. Did you dream anything in particular?"

His question gives me pause as I try to think back to my sleep, then frown. "No, not that I remember. I really dislike this lack of retention, but at least I'm not feeling like death warmed over upon waking up."

"Perhaps your body and mind just needed the opportunity to rest today. That doesn't mean you didn't dream at all, but they may have been inconsequential. I honestly wouldn't worry too much about it right now. Focus on the fact that you got some good sleep. I noted two distinct REM periods and a possible third, so there's nothing wrong there that I can see. Try some of the chamomile valerian blend tonight before bed. If it works, you have an idea of what to do. If it doesn't, then we'll try something else."

"I'll give it a shot," I say as my hand stills on Pongo's head. "At this point, I'll give anything a shot if it allows me the chance to sleep. The easier I sleep, the sooner I can find a cure for Emma. Or that's what I'm hoping for." Sighing, I shift from under Pongo's warm head and stand up, already feeling the loss of comfort. "I should go get Henry and figure out our dinner for tonight. I'll see you on Friday again, yes?"

"Of course, and if you need anything sooner, you can call whenever you need to. I want you to bring Emma home, too, but I won't place any further undue stress on you while you're trying. I'd rather help alleviate that entirely."

Without thought, I reach out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Archie. I know the others mean well, but their methods leave a great deal to be desired. Your support and lack of judgment mean so much to me. Thank you for giving me another chance."

"You're welcome, Regina."

*****

Dinner is a quiet affair of pizza and chicken wings in the den while watching the first of the _  
Avengers_ movies again. I had no desire to cook, wanting simply to spend some quality time with my son. By the time the movie's done, we're both feeling the need for sleep. He heads upstairs to shower while I clean up in the kitchen. I frown upon seeing my keys on the island, remembering putting them back in my purse after we got home, but I return them to their rightful place after putting on the kettle for my tea.

As my tea steeps, I make one last round of the house to ensure that everything is locked up and all lights are turned off before setting the alarm. The nightly ritual is more soothing than usual, and I can only hope that means sleep will be easier for me tonight. If not, Archie and I consider new options on Friday. Hearing the shower turn off, I smile and make my way upstairs. Henry is just coming out of the bathroom as I round the corner at the top of the stairs.

"I'll be ready for you to tuck me in soon," he says with a bright smile. "Just give me like ten minutes to get dressed and get my backpack ready for school tomorrow, okay?"

Little does he know just how pleased I am that we've picked up this ritual again, despite the bleak reason for its resurgence. "That will be perfect. I'll go turn down my bedding and brush my teeth. You _did_ brush yours, right, Henry?"

He scowls briefly, then lets out a boyish giggle and rolls his eyes. "Yes, Mom, I know better than to skip out on that. You don't like it when I don't do it."

"That's my boy. Go get dressed. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Henry heads into his room, closing the door behind him with a soft snick. I continue down the hall to my own room, doing exactly as I told him I would. There are new lines at the corners of my eyes -- crow's feet, some would call them, though they look nothing like any corvid's feet -- as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The demise of my perpetual youth, ended with Emma breaking the curse, has been making itself more and more obvious with time. I am an old woman, even if I don't look it. Well, I'm starting to look it now.

Mother kept her skin looking smooth and youthful with magic, but I don't want to do that. Perhaps it's time to admit that I'm really no longer like her and that I can age with grace and quiet dignity. Without thought, my hands reach for the vials of cream lining the counter. No, I guess I am still using magic to retain my youth, just not in the same way that she did it. Stilling my hand, I instead clean my teeth, then run a brush through my hair for one hundred strokes. There is something soothing about the ritual, begun in my childhood by Daddy as a way to calm me for bed. Perhaps it's time to resurrect it on a more regular basis again, particularly since my hair's grown so long.

Shaking off those thoughts for later, I go back to Henry's room and knock on the door, opening it when he invites me in. He's setting his outfit for tomorrow on his desk, backpack already sitting on the chair. His adherence to what I'd started with him when he was just a baby makes me smile.

"You've got that nostalgic look on your face again, Mom," he says, pulling me from my thoughts, and gets into bed.

"Sorry, Henry. I can't seem to help myself." I move to pull the covers up around him, then settle next to him on the mattress. "You're growing up so fast and I'm not sure I like it. I miss my baby boy, my little prince."

He grins and takes my hand, cradling it to his chest like he did when he was little. "I'll always be him, Mom" -- his grin turns mischievous now -- "even when I'm ancient, like thirty or something."

"Very funny, Mills," I retort, joining in on his infectious laughter, but don't pull my hand back. After a moment or so, the mood grows quieter. "You will always be my baby boy, and you'll always be Emma's kid. We both love you very much, Henry."

"I know you do, and I know you'll get her back. If anybody can save her, it's you. You get to be the hero now, Mom, and that's totally awesome."

I do my best to hide the pain at his words, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I'll do what I can, Henry. I won't give up until you have both of your moms again, I promise." When he suddenly yawns, I grin. "All right, young man, you need your sleep for school tomorrow. If you promise to go to bed on time, I'll let you have thirty minutes to read your comic books. Deal?"

"Deal." He surges up to wrap me in a tight hug, face nestling in the crook of my neck. "I love you, Mom, and I support you a hundred percent, no matter what happens."

"I love you, too, Henry. That's never changed and never will." Pressing another kiss to his hair, I hold him close for a moment more. "Come on now, settle in and read your comic books. I'll make you waffles in the morning. How does that sound?"

"With the bacon already inside of them?"

That eager look reminds me of his mother now, and I swallow painfully before I can answer him. "Of course, and extra bacon on the side. Just like you like it."

"Thanks, Mom! You're the best." He settles on his side, picking up a comic book from the stack on his nightstand. "Sweet dreams."

"You, too, Henry," I say, then get up and head into my bedroom.

Determination floods me after my little talk with our son, and I kneel down to retrieve the dagger from its hiding place. Peeling back the red leather, I stare at the name on the blade for a long moment before tracing the letters. When the now-familiar heft is against my palm again, I stand and move to the center of the room.

"Dark One, I summon thee. Emma Swan, I command you to appear."

Ten minutes later, the dagger is returned to the drawer and I am standing under a hot shower, frustrated tears mingling with the water sluicing down my body. I stand there as long as I can stand it and try to do a few relaxation techniques, knowing that I won't sleep if I'm upset. Eventually, the tears dry up and my heartbeat slows again.

Stepping out of the shower, I bend over to wrap my hair up in a towel before starting to dry off my body. I slip into a robe and turn around to grab for the creams and lotions that make up my nightly beauty routine. Before I can wipe off a spot on the mirror, it begins. Slowly and carefully, the letters of my first name appear. The breath rushes from my lungs as I watch it happening, and then I can smell that bubble gum-scented shampoo Emma sometimes used. She always said it was a weird, random bottle that Snow had purchased for Henry when he first started staying there, but I never believed it. That I'm even smelling it now is clearly a testament to how exhaustion and depression have taken over my life.

"I have to bring you back, Emma. There is absolutely no room for failure in this venture."


	6. Chapter 6

Something drags me up from sleep, but upon opening my eyes, I see that I'm not in my bedroom. I'm not even in my house. This place is… Am I still sleeping? Am I dreaming?

Turning in a slow circle, I take in my surroundings. This is a large room, larger than Leopold's throne room, which was rather substantial. The floor is covered in lavish carpets in dark colors, picked through with gold and silver threads for just a hint of sparkle here and there. The patterns are indistinct to me at this point, but they seem vaguely familiar. Where they end, tassels blossom out in brilliant shades of blood red, silver, and gold. Between them are glimpses of the smooth rock flooring, cold to my bare feet. The wood-lined far wall contains tapestries in similar shades, again with the gold and silver threads. The wall behind me is dominated by a massive fireplace. I could fit my car inside the hearth itself, if there weren't a lovely fire blazing there already.

Taking a step closer to the fireplace, I shiver slightly and rub my arms. Silk pajamas may look and feel incredible, but they don't seem to keep me warm enough in this cavernous room. Being near the hearth gives me a better view of the two walls adjoining it. Both contain massive, corner to corner bookcases that seem to go on forever. To a vaulted stone ceiling? Am I in a cave? Curiosity gets the better of me as I walk over to one of the book ladders, climbing it slowly. Once I get to at least two stories up, I have to stop or risk vertigo. But still the shelves go higher. My view of the ceiling is clearer now: this room was excavated out of solid stone. I'd guess I'm in the middle of a mountain, but it doesn't seem warm enough for that.

"It's not a mountain," comes a low voice from above and to my left. "Well, it's a mountain, but not a volcano. Volcano would give you the warmth you're craving. I suppose I could change that for you, but I prefer it like this."

Glancing up, I blink at the owner of that voice.

"Emma?"

"If that's what you're comfortable calling me, so be it. I've had many names over the millennia of my existence."

The sheer surprise of seeing her, combined with the heights we're at, causes me to sway unsteadily on the ladder. Before I can do anything else, I'm suddenly stretching out on a chaise upholstered in the finest burgundy velvet. She's sitting cross-legged on the table a few yards away, elbows on her knees and chin resting in her hands. Her skin is paler than usually, her face looking like she's taken a bath in translucent glitter powder that brings out the sharp angles of her cheekbones. Her clothes are all black leather, the thigh-high boots reminiscent of those I wore as the Evil Queen. They reveal skintight pants that hug her thighs and hips like a second skin. Over this is a long black coat that reminds me of the one Wesley Snipes wore in _Blade_ , except it has a strange high cowl for a collar. And then I'm back to her face again. Blood red lipstick stands out almost as much as the odd look of her eyes. The green I've grown so accustomed to is marred by black. Not her pupils, but a living miasma of black tentacles, like the darkness that swallowed her whole. 

"Do you like what you see, dearie?" That low, sensual purr to her voice reminds me too much of myself decades ago when I thought power and control were the only things worth attaining. "The look in your eyes tells me that you do. What's the matter, dearie? Swan got your tongue?"

The taunting sneer is too reminiscent of Rumpelstiltskin for my comfort. Taking a deep breath, I sit up to face her. "Emma? I know you're in there. I want to talk to you, not to the Dark One."

"Sorry, but Emma isn't available right now."

"Is that why she wouldn't appear when I tried to summon her?"

"Oh, she tried, but I wouldn't let her succeed. She's not the dominant personality anymore, no matter how hard she tries to maintain her own integrity. With time, she'll understand that she's mine now. She's stubborn, I'll grant her that, but I have the patience to wait her out."

"Then why didn't _you_ come when I summoned you? I used the dagger. I know the lore all too well from your previous incarnation. He's still in a coma, if you're at all interested."

"He's still alive?" A dangerous light glints in her eyes, a look I well remember from Rumpel's more insane periods in the Enchanted Forest. "I could kill him for you. That wasted old body should've died when I left him. Doesn't matter. His was a weak body from the start. But your precious Savior? She's strong and young. Once she accepts that this is the way of things, she and I will have a nice long reign of terror in every land we can find."

I shake my head, getting up to walk closer to her, belatedly realizing she never answered my question about the failed summonings. "I won't let that happen. Emma is the Savior, she's the product of some of the most powerful True Love ever witnessed. You wanted me, not her. I won't fight you like she does."

"Oh, Regina…" She chuckles and gives me a disgustingly perfect look of pity. "You don't get it, do you? You were never my target. It's always been the Savior. All that purity and white magic corrupted to the darkest magic known to mankind? What a delicious treat just for me."

"No, there's got to be a way to get her away from you. Rumpel could be Mr. Gold without you, she can be Emma without you. She'll learn to control you just like he did."

"Care to make a wager on that, Regina?" One second, she's still sitting on the table; in the next, she's standing right in front of me, our noses practically touching. "Shall we wager the Heart of the Truest Believer?"

Completely on autopilot, a fireball appears in my right hand at her thinly veiled threat. "I'll kill you if you touch a single hair on his head!"

"No, I don't think so," she says, casually flicking her wrist.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, I am flying backward through the air until I impact with the bookcase I'd been perusing earlier. The breath is knocked from my lungs as I crumple to the floor, stars swimming in my vision. But I won't let her win; I won't go down without a fight. It takes a moment, but I'm on my feet again, fireball back at the ready. This time, I let it loose toward her.

"Is that what you want to do then, Regina?" She wave her hand to dissipate the fireball and cocks her head to the side, a fall of white gold waves spilling from the seemingly tight bun at the crown of her head. And then her lips curl up in a perversion of the smile that Charming, Emma, and Henry all share. "Ahh, even better. I accept your terms."

That brings me up short. "Wh-What? What terms? I've given you no terms."

She clucks her tongue a few times, shaking her head. "You forget that I have access to Emma's superpower. You're lying right now."

"But I've given you no terms and clairvoyance does not equate mindreading."

"You may not have given them to me, but your beloved Savior has. And your entire being has agreed to them even more readily than I have."

"And those terms are?" An exasperated sigh escapes my lips before I can stop it. I always hated the mind games that Rumpel and Mother used on me. "Or are you going to demand a deal from me to get them?"

"Oh, I've demanded a deal, but not from you, Regina. You technically have nothing I want, remember?" She laughs when I roll my eyes and clench my fists at my sides. "Oh, you want details, is that it?"

"Of course, I do! I dealt with the imp for long enough to know that I deserve to know the rules I have to follow."

She keeps her head tilted as she studies me for what feels like an eternity, but is likely only a moment or two. And then she smiles at me. "All right, you'll get your rules. But not from me."

"What? Who's going to give them to me then?"

A brilliant burst of lightning radiates out from her body to a space less than ten feet in front of me, culminating in a roiling cloud of black smoke. I know the basics of what that smoke looks like, but have never seen it in black before. When it dissipates, my Emma stands before me, wearing the skinny jeans and white cowled sweater I'd last seen her in. There's a pure white aura surrounding her body, emanating from her chest.

"E-Emma? Is that you?"

Without thought, I race forward to pull her into a tight hug before I consider that this could be a trick. But she feels warm and solid against my body, and I can smell that damned bubble gum shampoo. The scent brings tears to my eyes as I cling to her.

"Easy, Regina," she mutters, voice rough with unspoken emotion, but doesn't release her own death grip on me. "I'm really here, but I don't know how long She'll let me stay."

"O-Okay." I pull back to look at her again, then reach out to punch her in the mouth. "Why in the _hell_ didn't you ever come when I summoned you?"

She rubs at her jaw, tears glistening in her eyes, and glances back at the Dark One version of herself before she shrugs self-consciously. "I couldn't get _that_ to let me. Every time I tried, I got pulled back." She takes my hand and guides me back to the chaise, sitting next to me. "Look, I can't let you take my place, regardless of what the Dark One says about not wanting you."

"Emma--"

"No, listen to me, Regina, and understand what I'm saying. I won't let you sacrifice all the good you've accomplished to save me. But there's another way…" She glances back to the Dark One, who has returned to sitting cross-legged on the table again, this time nonchalantly flipping through a book. "The Dark One is willing to battle you for me. If you win, and I have faith that you will, She doesn't consume me and my light magic entirely into the darkness. If She wins--"

" _How_ do I battle the Dark One, Emma? I don't understand."

She smiles again, that gentle, reassuring smile of the Savior. "If She wins, I've agreed to surrender utterly to Her power. I will be the vessel She's always dreamed of having."

"No! You can't do that, Emma!"

"I can and I will, _if_ you lose."

I shake my head violently, glaring daggers at the Dark One, who smirks back and says, "Tell her the rules, Savior. Quit beating around the bush."

"Emma?"

"There will be two parts to the battles in multiple rounds. One part is magical duels, like you've done before and kicked ass on."

"But--"

She presses a finger to my lips, causing a shiver to slide down my spine. "Let me finish, please?" When I reluctantly nod, she continues. "The other part is a kind of game. A version of Truth or Dare, if you will. She will ask you questions, sometimes in concert with the magical duels, and your only rule on the questions is to answer truthfully. Every time you do, you learn a little more of the history of the Dark One and how She came into being. This is information that might help you in finding a way to save me."

"But if you lie," the Dark One cuts in smoothly, "then I claim another piece of your precious Savior's light magic for my own. When her aura goes out, you lose the person you know as Emma Swan for all eternity."

"That's-- That's insane!"

"Regina, listen to me. All you have to do is answer Her questions truthfully. You can do that, can't you? For me? And Henry?"

I want to refuse. I want to tell them both to go to hell, but it's clear that's where we already are. Finally, I meet her gaze again and nod slowly. "All right. For you and for Henry. He needs both of his mothers."

"That's my girl," she says, and I feel a strange fluttering in my chest, which causes the Dark One to laugh derisively.

"This is going to be too easy."

Emma cups my chin in her hand when I try to look at the Dark One again. "Ignore her. She's trying to psyche you out. These battles between the two of you will happen when you're sleeping. You'll be transported here as you were tonight. For every question you answer correctly, you will remember pieces of information to guide your research with Belle. Get Belle to have the Blue Fairy help you, try my mom, too. She'll listen to them because they know how to couch it in terms that will make her want to help _me_."

I purse my lips at that disdainfully, but nod anyway. There's no sense in fighting Emma on this.

"When you battle, you will potentially be injured. Nothing permanent will follow you back to your world, but you'll sport bruises and minor cuts on your body, and you'll feel like you got no sleep--"

"How long has She been bringing me here to battle already?"

"What?"

"Emma, I haven't had a decent night's sleep since you were taken. The only good sleep I've had was four hours on the couch with Pongo in Archie's office this afternoon."

She turns to look at the Dark One then. "You didn't tell me you were starting this already, you lying bitch!"

The Dark One merely grins and shrugs. "You never asked, dearie. I needed to test her mettle before letting you agree to this little deal in the first place."

Emma starts to get up, but I grab her arm. "Emma, don't! It's not worth it. You've agreed to the deal, you've both given me the rules and the terms of the deal. My only question is whether or not I can share what I know of this with the others."

We both look at the Dark One, who taps a finger against her lips for a moment before nodding. "That's acceptable. The whole lot of you won't be able to rub enough brain cells together to figure out how to save your precious Savior, but I'll give you this bone. You can share it with them, but don't be surprised if they don't believe you, Regina."

"They'll believe me," I say, then smile at Emma. "And I accept the terms of this deal. I won't stop until I save you, Emma. You deserve a happy ending that doesn't include being the fucking Dark One."

"Fantastic! I'm going to enjoy this." The Dark One snaps her fingers and Emma goes rigid next to me, only her eyes skittering about her to indicate life. "First question, and this is an easy one for you. How many hearts did you take to cast the curse?"

Swallowing thickly, I close my eyes and say, "Two. Rocinante's and Daddy's."

"Very good, Regina. When you wake in the morning, you'll remember the rules of the deal and a special tidbit about me that even Emma doesn't know yet. And now for your next question. Why is saving Emma so important to you?"

That brings me up short. I can't breathe for a long moment, lungs straining to remember how to work. I can see the panic and support in Emma's eyes. "Because she doesn't deserve this fate," I finally say.

"Not quite," the Dark One says, and I'm flying backward into the bookcase again. Just before I black out from the painful impact, She says, "You need to be _completely_ truthful. Partial truths don't count. I'll see you again tomorrow night."

And then nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

When the alarm goes off, it startles me up into a seated position. The sudden movement elicits a painful groan, and I remember hitting the bookcase twice. Getting up, I head into the bathroom and remove my top before turning around to glance over my shoulder at the two lines of bruises: one just under my shoulders, the other across the middle of my back. Without having to see it, I know there's a third matching stripe along the small of my back. Easing my shirt back on, I attempt to do a basic healing, at least enough to let me move around without Henry getting suspicious. He can't know yet what I've agreed to. He can't know that I may not succeed in rescuing his other mother.

The trip downstairs to make him breakfast is painful, but thankfully I get to the kitchen before his alarm even goes off. I lose myself in the comforting rhythms of making bacon-stuffed waffles, more bacon, and hash browns for my son. When he stumbles into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, I have a glass of orange juice waiting for him.

"Morning, Mom," he says after a couple sips of juice. "That smells so good."

"Good morning, my prince. Breakfast is almost ready. Why don't you get the syrup from the fridge?"

He does as requested and grabs the juice carton to refill his glass after he drains it. I set the plate of food in front of him, then dish up some of the bacon and hash browns for myself. I sit on the stool next to him at the island, swallowing my hiss of pain in a sip of coffee. We eat our food in relatively companionable silence, and I relish these moments for the heaven they are to me.

When Henry heads upstairs to get dressed, I slip into my office and find a medium-sized leather bound journal, belatedly realizing that it's as black as the leather the Dark One wore in my dream. Shaking off that thought, I take the journal and a favorite pen and slip them into my briefcase, then head upstairs to get dressed myself. It wouldn't do for me to deviate from my standard morning routine.

Once I drop Henry off at school, I head into my office to call Belle, only to find Snow already waiting for me. I want to sigh at the pitifully eager look in Snow's eyes, but I can't entirely blame her. "What can I do for you, Snow?"

"I just wanted to see if you'd had any new developments on getting Emma back. Neal was terribly fussy last night, and David kept muttering about Truth or Dare in his sleep."

It takes everything in me to school my features to a neutrally annoyed expression at her words. "I really don't need a running commentary on your family business, Snow. I have a town to run and a Savior to save. Don't you have something else to do?"

"Well, I--"

"Go home, Snow," I say with a soft sigh. "When I have something, I'll tell you." She nods and is almost to the door when I speak again. "If you could, I would appreciate you asking the blue bu-- Reul Ghorm if she would assist Belle and me in our research of the Dark One mythos and history." I roll my eyes self-deprecatingly. "She won't entertain anything I ask of her seriously, so I thought maybe…"

"Of course, I'll talk to her! She wants to bring Emma back, too."

With that, she's out the door, clearly happy to have a part in Operation Save the Savior, or whatever she and Henry have chosen to call it. I'm honestly surprised that they haven't gotten the blue bug to help already. Sitting at my desk, I look at my calendar, grateful that I actually have a day with no meetings whatsoever. That gives me time to get started, which means a call to Belle, then another to Archie. Friday can't come soon enough. I don't think I'll need an emergency session with him, but I want to clue him in to what this latest discovery is. And then I need to record all of this information in the journal in my briefcase. I don't want to miss a single detail that could help bring Emma back to me. _Us_.

*****

Three months after Emma's abduction by the darkness, my days begin to follow a definite pattern. Tuesdays and Fridays, I have sessions with Archie that have now expanded to include the option for a couple hours' uninterrupted naptime with Pongo. They're still the only decent sleep I manage to get, given the fact that I'm battling on a nightly basis for Emma's life -- or soul… I'm not even sure anymore. I may not remember everything about the nightly sojourns to the Dark One's mountain cave, but what I do remember goes into my journal first thing in the morning before being shared with anyone else.

Breakfast every morning with Henry before school and work hasn't changed from the moment I brought him home as an infant. The same goes for our dinners, though I've allowed him two nights a week with his grandparents, if only to keep them from invading my home.

Belle and I meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays to discuss our research into releasing Emma from this damnable curse she's caught up in. On Thursdays, we open up these meetings to Snow and Reul Ghorm. Though the latter has been informed that she's welcome at both meetings, she chooses to show up only when Snow is there to act as a buffer between us. It's stupid and a waste of precious time for her to continue with this kind of attitude, but it's the only way I can get her to assist us, so I put up with it.

*****

"Regina?"

Her voice startles me from the dull exhaustion I've been feeling, and I fight back the urge to groan from my head snapping up to look at her. These damned nightly fights are doing me in every bit as much as my waning belief that I can save Emma. Every single night that I don't answer that damnable question correctly, I see her aura dim just a bit. No matter what I say, it's not the right answer for the Dark One, but I _know_ I'm not lying when I say it. I just want this all to be over.

"Are you all right?"

A snort escapes me before I can stop it, eyes narrowing as I stare at her. "Am I all right? Really, Snow? Have you gone blind or have you just gone stupid?"

Her face flushes darkly, but she slides onto the bench across from me. "I know you don't really mean that," she says, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand.

"Oh, but I do," is my reply as I snatch my hand back away from her. "Surely you can see that I'm clearly not all right. And I am not in the mood for another of your hope speeches, Snow White, so you can just leave now."

Ignoring the hurt in her eyes, as well as the odd ache in my chest for causing that look, I gaze back down at the steam rising off my cup of coffee. I don't even know anymore how much of the stuff I drink in a day, but it's all that keeps me going at this point. Well, coffee and my twice weekly naps on Archie's couch. But four or six hours of sleep a week isn't enough to truly sustain a healthy life. No, I'm just slowly killing myself to keep my promise of bringing the Savior back to her son and the rest of the town.

"You can't do that, Regina!"

Her words shock me, followed quickly by the realization that I spoke those last thoughts aloud. The heat rising off my cheeks and chest could rival the dark liquid in the cup cradled in my hands. This time when she tries to touch me, I just don't have the energy to pull away again. But I'll never admit to the small amount of comfort it actually brings me. Instead, I offer her what I hope is a withering look.

"Regina, killing yourself won't accomplish anything. How could you ever think that's a good idea?"

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose, Snow," I reply with a roll of my eyes. She doesn't need to know… "Look, I'm working day and night to make sure to bring Emma back and rid her of the curse of the Dark One. Reul Ghorm and Belle are helping me, and they could _easily_ take over the research if something happens to me. Henry has you and Charming to look after him."

"But--"

I continue on as if she hasn't even spoken. "You all want the end results, but not a single one of you understands the full implications of what it is I'm doing. The _only_ person who seems to get what this is taking out of me is Archie, because he basically forces me to sleep in his office twice a week. You want Emma back, safe and full of light magic, but you have no idea how to go about it. So you all expect me to do this. Maybe it's the ultimate sign of my redemption, maybe it's not. I don't know and I frankly don't care anymore. You're all a bunch of spoiled rotten brats with a skewed view of good and evil to suit your needs. You don't care about what happens to the vessel of your desires as long as you get what you want in the end."

I can't help but relish the shocked, hurt look on Snow's face as my unfiltered diatribe continues. And then, belatedly, I realize just how quiet the diner has become. A quick glance around us confirms that we are the main attraction in the Storybrooke Circus' center ring. Varying levels of concern, pity, and revulsion line every single face. Of course, I've made a spectacle of myself again, but I can't seem to stop at this point.

"Have you noticed _anything_ about me beyond what you want to see, Snow?" And now I look around to include them all. "Have any of you? Have you noticed the lack of sleep? The dark bags under my eyes? The fact that I don't really even bother with looking like the prim and proper mayor any longer? No, you haven't. All you care about is making sure that you have all of your creature comforts in this land and getting your precious Savior back."

Suddenly feeling nauseated and claustrophobic, I dig some bills out of my purse and throw them on the table before standing up. I try to ignore the dizziness setting in, gripping the back of the booth's bench for balance.

"Regina!" Snow's immediately at my side, of course. Too little, too late, as usual. "Please sit down."

I yank my arm from her grip and make a beeline for the door. Hand on the knob, I turn to face all of them. "Perhaps it's time you all have a little war council powwow and determine what my fate will be when I fail in bringing back the Savior. The odds are looking more and more likely that I'll either fail or die in the process. If I live through it, you should probably have my punishment settled."

With that, I walk out of the diner and use magic to poof myself home.

*****

Archie calls not long after I reach the mansion, which means one of three people contacted him the second I walked out the door. I verify with him that I'm not in need of an emergency session right now, that I just need people to leave me alone and to make some headway in my quest to get Emma back. He _does_ however manage to weasel a promise out of me to come in sooner on Friday for our next session, which means a longer nap. I can't exactly fight him on the need for uninterrupted sleep. It's still the only time that I don't get the crap beat out of me in this infernal battle with the Dark One for Emma.

For some reason, Henry chooses not to bring up my tirade at Granny's over dinner, even though I know he heard about it from someone, likely his grandparents. Even as he's getting older and thinks he's better at subterfuge, he can't fool his mother. Not even with less sleep than is healthy under my belt.

Once we've eaten, Henry insists on cleaning up. His face has that determined, stubborn cast to it that is clearly inherited from both sides of his genetics, and I'm just too exhausted to fight him. I sit at the island for a bit, just watching him. I feel a need to be close to him right now, and I know I feel guilty for potentially hurting him by what I said in the diner.

"You know, Mom," he finally says in a soft tone, "I don't want you to die trying to bring Ma back."

"Henry--"

"No, let me finish." He sets aside the towel and turns to face me. "Yes, I want her back. I don't want to lose her forever, but I don't want to get her back if it means I lose you in the process. You're my mom, you raised me and loved me when no one else could or would. I need you just as much as I need her."

As exhausted as I am, I'm on my feet and pulling him into a tight hug, tears stinging in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whisper into the hair at his temple. "I didn't mean to upset you by what I said today. I didn't mean y--"

"Yes, you did." He pulls back to look at me, and I realize just how much he's grown. "And you were right. I'm growing up, but sometimes I'm still just that spoiled rotten little brat that hated the Evil Queen and wanted to be with my r-- with Emma. I'd rather you _tell_ me this stuff, Mom. Let me help you, even if all I can do is listen when you brainstorm ideas. I'm not a baby anymore, but I still need _both_ of my moms, and I'd be totally lost if you were gone for good."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Henry Daniel Mills, but I am very happy to have you in my life." I kiss his forehead, thoughts of our once upon a time True Love's Kiss. "I promise I'll try not to exclude you from now on. It's just so hard…"

"What is it you always tell me, Mom? You do your best and that's all anyone can ask of you. Even if you fail, you gave it your best shot."

"You're growing up too quickly for my comfort, my prince, and becoming a man in your own right."

He offers me a crooked grin, reminding me so much of his other mother. "Then, as the man of the house, I'm telling you to go upstairs and take a long hot shower or a soak in the tub, whichever you prefer. Text me when you're almost done and I'll make you a cup of that tea Archie gave you, then you can get some sleep."

"Henry--"

"And if you need it, I'll sit with you while you drink it and fall asleep. And I'm not taking no for an answer either. I may not be your son by blood, but I think I've inherited your stubbornness just as much as if you gave birth to me. Now go."

Chuckling at that, I kiss his forehead again. "You're as stubborn as your other mother and your grandmother sometimes, but you're probably right. Thank you, Henry."

Heading upstairs, I feel oddly rejuvenated by my conversation with my son. Even when he's upset and has hurt me, Henry has always known exactly what to say to make me feel better, too. Stepping into my bedroom, I don't even hesitate to attempt another summoning. I don't expect her to show up, but if I don't try, I won't know if I'll succeed or not.

By rote, I open the drawer, gently pull out the bundle and unwrap it. The sight of her name etched on that damnable blade still sends a cold shiver oozing down my spine, but I take a deep breath and pick it up. The heft of it feels comfortable in my hands, and I find it oddly comforting to know that she could somehow know that I'm holding it now, be reassured by the fact that I'm trying to get her back to us. Impulsively, I pull that leather jacket around my shoulders with my free hand, surrounded by the scents that are so indelibly tied to Emma Swan.

"I summon thee, Dark One. Emma Swan, I command you to appear here before me."

Slowly counting my heartbeats until I reach five hundred, I sigh and return the dagger to the cushion of Emma's jacket, then put it all back in my drawer. And then I head into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes and starting the shower. Stepping under the hot spray, I let out a low groan as the water pounds into the sore muscles of my neck and back. I fall into a kind of reverie, letting my mind wander as my body attempts to get some sort of rest while standing up in the shower. I don't even notice the frustrated tears any longer.

After a few minutes of that, I begin to mechanically wash up, using the physical exertion to help settle my emotions as much as possible. If I want to attempt any sleep tonight before my duel with the Dark One, I need to relax a little more. Once washed and rinsed clean, I step out of the shower and begin to towel off. Bending over to towel off and wrap up my hair, I'm overwhelmed by the scent of Emma's bubble gum shampoo again. Straightening, I stare at the mirror.

"Emma? Is that you?"

Once again, the letters of my name appear slowly on the fogged surface. I can practically feel them being drawn on my skin, and it sets all the hairs on my body on end.

"Emma, _please_ , fight this. Fight the Dark One and come back to m-- to us. We need you. I--" Swallowing thickly, I don't censor myself this time. "I need you, Emma. I can't do this alone."

A sudden extended jag of the last letter in my name catches my eye just as the glass on the bathroom counter rolls off and shatters on the floor. I let out a startled squeak of surprise, but before I can even bend over to start picking up the pieces, they're in the trashcan and the floor is cleaned up. And then the word "Sorry" appears on the mirror under my name.

Only this time it's tinged a dirty red, as if written in blood. As if Emma got hurt trying to clean up the mess.

And then I start to scream.


	8. Chapter 8

"Regina?"

All I can do is sit there and shake, staring at the mirror without really seeing it. The condensation has cleared, but the bloody word still remains.

"Come on, Regina, look at me. Let me know you can hear me."

Archie. Archie's here. Where's Emma? She was here, I know she was here. That's her blood on the mirror. Can't let them clean the mirror. Can't let them take my link to Emma.

I struggle to get up, still not fully acknowledging Archie's presence. Swaying unsteadily with a hand out for balance, I glance down at my bare feet and the spotless tile floor, unwilling to step off the bathmat. "Did she get it all?"

"Did who get it all? What happened, Regina?"

"E-Emma."

I tear my gaze away to stare at his familiar face. There's clear worry in his blue eyes, and I can just make out my reflection in the lenses of his glasses. Barely recognizing it as me, I'm now sure I've clearly lost my mind. That's all there is to it. I've finally snapped and lost all touch with reality.

"Ma was here?"

That comes from closer to the door. Henry. He shouldn't be here. He can't see me like this.

"It's okay, Regina," Archie says, gripping my outstretched hand. "Henry just wanted to make sure you were okay until I got here."

"Mommy?" His voice sounds so scared, but I can't even look at him. I feel his hand on my shoulder. "I'll leave you with Archie, just remember that I love you, no matter what."

When his footsteps fade and my bedroom door closes, I turn and collapse into Archie's arms, sobbing harder. I feel the mortification when he picks me up and carries me into my bedroom, setting me on the chaise in front of my fireplace. Thankfully, he pulls an afghan off the end of the bed to settle over my robe-clad body before pulling the other chair closer to me. The familiar warmth starts to chase the chills away.

"Regina, do you know where you are?"

"My bedroom. I was taking a shower and dried off, and then... And then she was here."

"Emma was here? You did a summoning and she appeared?"

I blink owlishly at him, licking my lips. "I did a summoning, but with no results, so I took a shower and then it happened. I saw her write my name on the mirror, and I smelled her shampoo, and then the glass shattered. She cleaned up it and-- and she hurt herself. Blood on the mirror in her words meant she hurt herself, right?" And then I struggle to get up, slumping back when my body refuses to cooperate. "It's still on the mirror, isn't it?"

"Is what still on the mirror?"

"Sorry, written in blood. Or--" I frown and swallow thickly. "I think it was blood."

"Why would she write sorry on the mirror in blood?"

That finally registers with me and I glare at him. "Were you _not_ listening to me? The glass fell off the counter and shattered. She picked up the pieces and put them in the trash. She must have cut herself because when she wrote sorry on the mirror, it was red."

"But was she _actually_ here, Regina?"

"I don't know," I finally whisper, head dropping as I stare at my lap, tears slipping down my cheeks again. "I felt her presence, could smell her shampoo. It was so strong, Archie, and so real. Will… Will you check to see if the broken glass is in the trash?"

He smiles and nods, squeezing my hand as he gets up and heads into the bathroom. He comes back with a confused smile on his face and his phone out in his hand. Glancing at the screen when he comes closer, I see a picture of broken glass in the trash can, including one piece with a drop of blood on it. I bite my bottom lip as he scrolls to the next picture of the red-tinged word "Sorry" on the mirror. A hiccup of relief escapes me as he settles next to me and pulls me into a hug.

"Now that you and I both have physical proof that something happened, why don't you start at the beginning and tell me again what happened?"

Taking a deep breath, I nod against his shoulder and move to sit back into the chaise more. Starting slowly, I begin to relate my entire day to him, from the research meeting with Belle, to my run-in with Snow at the diner, to my meal with Henry, and then what happened in these rooms of mine.

"I swear to you, Archie, she's so close to being here. I could almost _feel_ her this time, and then the glass broke and--" Attempting to rake a hand through my hair, I knock off the towel and let out a frustrated sigh. "What am I doing wrong that she won't appear when commanded? That's the point of the damned dagger, isn't it?"

While I've been speaking, Archie somehow got his ubiquitous notebook and pen in hand to take notes, just like one of our regular sessions. The sight of him dutifully transcribing our conversation in his particular way is more comforting than I care to admit. Even without Pongo here, I feel just a little more settled in my skin right now. Archie sets both items aside and studies my face for a moment.

"Well, I won't claim to be an expert on the Dark One's dagger or curse," he says with a small smile. "I leave that fully in your realm of influence, Regina, but you and I have already discussed reasons why Emma may not be able to appear to you fully when you summon her. You said even Henry and Hook have tried, with no better results than you had."

"They didn't even get the ghostly messages like I did." I feel an odd surge of pride as I say the words, particularly for besting the pirate. "I wish Henry had though. He needs both of his mothers here. He still hasn't fully gotten over losing Neal, he's told me as much."

"He's told me the same thing," Archie says, "but that isn't answering any of my questions, Regina. Why do _you_ think she won't answer your summons? Any of your summons?"

"If I knew that, I'd have a way to get her here." Another sigh escapes my lips, and I can taste the salt of my earlier tears when I take my next breath. Absently, I use magic to bring my journal to me and start flipping through the pages. "Three months of research with Belle, two of that with the blue bu-- with Reul Ghorm, and we still aren't any closer to figuring out what to do to save Emma. I feel like a failure, Archie. I'm obsessing over this situation to my own detriment, I can't sleep unless I'm curled up with Pongo on your office couch, my nights are filled with battles with the Dark One that I can't win, and Emma haunts and taunts my every waking minute. Thank god for your enforced naps and magic, or I'd truly be dead right now."

"And why do you think she's haunting you, awake or asleep?"

"Because of the Dark One's curse, of course. Because I can't rest until she's safe from that horrifying evil presence."

"And why can't you rest until she's safe?"

I frown then, considering his question. "Because it should have been me. She sacrificed herself and her Savior lightness for me." The tears begin to slip down my cheeks again. I'm so tired of crying. "It's all my fault, Archie."

"Regina, we've talked about this before. Several times, in fact. You know that's not true."

"Yes, it is! The darkness wanted _me_ , not her. Rumpel said it years ago, when I was still a technically newly married bride. He told me that the darkness liked how I tasted. I studied and learned almost everything I know of dark magic from him. Of _course_ , when it abandoned him, the darkness would come after me. It's only logical."

"So you'd still leave Henry with only one mother?"

"No! I'm more used to the dark magic, I'd be able to handle it better than Emma is. Archie, if you could see what I see when I go to fight the Dark One each night for her… She's fading away. All of that light and goodness in her is dimming and it's all my fault. I keep answering the Dark One's question truthfully, which was the _only_ stipulation She made of me, but I keep getting told that I'm not being honest and getting thrown around like a rag doll. And all the while, I'm losing Emma. I've tried to make a deal with the Dark One, willingly give myself over to the darkness, but I keep getting rebuffed."

"And why do you think that is?"

I stare down at the journal, then suddenly throw it across the room in much the same way that the Dark One throws me around Her lair nightly. "Because I'm not good enough. I've never been good enough to be what anyone truly wants, and I never will be."

"I don't think that's true, Regina. Henry wants you, Daniel wanted you, I want you as a friend, Snow wants you as family."

"That's different," I say, then brokenly whisper, "Why am I not good enough for Her? For _either_ of them?"

I hear him get up then, settling on the chaise near my knees, and he takes my hands in his. "Regina, you're not being completely truthful with yourself or the Dark One about why you're fighting so vehemently for Emma, are you? You know something that you're not willing to share. And a lie by omission is still a lie."

Shaking my head, I struggle to get up and start pacing. "No."

"Then why are you fighting so hard to get Emma back from the Dark One's curse?"

"Because she's the Savior, she's the product of True Love, she's Henry's other mother, she's--" I shake my head again and bite down hard enough on my bottom lip to taste blood. A painful stab radiates out from my chest, encompassing my entire body, but still I won't let the words out.

"Let it out, Regina," Archie says, suddenly standing in front of me, forcing my rigid body to lean against his for support. "Can't you see how much it's hurting you to keep lying to yourself? To her?"

And just like that, the damn finally breaks loose. All the sordid details of my denial of what has been right in front of me for the last few years. Every bit of my cowardice and refusal to trust in what Mother always called the "greatest weakness to mankind" is laid bare at his feet. At some point in my almost manic verbal diarrhea, the details of other incidents come out. Things that I've clearly been taking as merely coincidental and a product of my exhaustion: Henry's misplace book; a shift to the place of the picture of him and Emma on my desk; my keys left in odd places; strange gibberish in open files on my computer; dead air phone calls; the foggy messages on the mirror. The list is long and varied. The more things I list off to him in words that are tear-filled and barely recognizable to me, the more I realize each of these coincidences has always happened relatively soon after a summoning attempt.

"Oh gods," I whimper, clinging to him as if my very life depends on it. "I can't lose her, Archie. I can't do this again. Not after Daniel, not after the fiasco that was my relationship with Robin. I never should have been with him in the first place. If I hadn't been so afraid when she first came to town, I'd--" I can't finish the thought, a fresh spate of tears robbing me of the ability to speak, but her name repeats itself in my head until I want to scream with frustration. 

I'm not sure how much time passes as I sob in his arms, but eventually an exhausted sort of lassitude steals over me and I scrub at painfully tender eyes with the heels of my hands. I'm once again sitting on the chaise, the afghan over my lower body, and Archie is sitting next to me, simply talking in a soft volume. I'm not even sure what he's saying, but the simple cadence of his words goes great lengths to help settle my frazzled nerves.

"Welcome back, Regina," he finally says with a gentle smile, garnering my attention. "How are you feeling?"

"Like death warmed over would be an improvement." My voice is husky, throat raw from so much crying. "How is it that you're always a witness to me looking my absolute worst lately, Archie? Even Henry doesn't see me this bad."

He chuckles and squeezes my forearm. "Because the Evil Queen is no longer in charge and Regina prefers to have a support system that can help her?" When I snort, but still smile, he squeezes my arm again. "Or maybe because I know that deep down you're a good person and you deserve your happy ending?"

"I think it's too late for my happy ending, Archie. Well, for the one that involves any kind of romance in my life. Henry will be enough."

"Considering you once thought you'd _never_ get a happy ending, then you got one with Henry, I don't think love is out of the question. You just have to work a little harder to get it."

I roll my eyes at him, head falling back against the chaise. "All I do is work."

"Yes, but the work makes the reward that much sweeter, doesn't it?" When I attempt a nonchalant shrug, he coughs in an attempt to cover another chuckle. "And in this case, won't _she_ think it's that much sweeter with you working so hard for it?"

"You're a manipulative bastard, Archie Hopper. Has anyone ever told you that?"

He just grins. "Maybe once or twice, but only you really say it." He turns serious then. "All kidding aside, do you think you'll be okay now? Can I have Henry come in? He was quite upset when he called me."

"Please? I want to make sure he's okay." He starts to get up, but I grab his hand to stop him, squeezing it tightly. "I know I probably say it too much, but _thank you_ , Archie. I really do appreciate everything you've done for me."

"That's what friends are for, isn't it, Regina?"


	9. Chapter 9

Once Archie leaves, Henry knocks on my door and timidly pokes his head in. "Mom? Archie said you wanted to see me?"

I've moved to the bed by this point, after returning the journal to its rightful place next to my bed. Patting the mattress next to me, I smile wearily at my son. "Come here, my prince. I need to talk to you about something."

He comes over to the bed, and then I notice he's already in his pajamas. Crawling under the covers, Henry snuggles into my side and kisses my cheek. His grip around my waist is tight, but not uncomfortable.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Henry?"

"You're not dying, are you?"

My own arms tighten around him, holding him close to me as I kiss the top of his head. "No, I'm not dying, I promise. I just got a little overwhelmed earlier. Well, okay, I got more than a _little_ overwhelmed."

"It kinda freaked me out when you started screaming. I came running in and you were sitting on the floor, staring at the mirror and you wouldn't acknowledge me, so I called Archie." He fidgets slightly. "I almost called Grampa, but I figured you'd feel better if Archie was here. And he's a doctor, too, so if you were hurt, he could help you."

The desire to cry burns in tear ducts that have been overworked, and I hug him tightly again. "You were very brave and grown up, Henry, and I'm so proud of you for that. You may have panicked, which is completely acceptable in these circumstances, but you clearly remained calm enough to stay with me until Archie got here. I honestly didn't even know you were here."

"Will you tell me what happened?" He twists up to face me and I can see the man he's growing into. "Remember you promised to let me help, and I really want to help you."

It takes a little time, but I manage to get most of the story out again for him. There are some things that a child should never learn about his parent. It's not an easy thing, but I make the effort for him because I refuse to go back on any more promises. He and I both end up crying by the end of it -- well, I try to -- and I feel closer to him than I have in a very long time.

"So… Do you think your new knowledge will help you with Ma?"

"I certainly hope so, but I'm not entirely sure."

He grins suddenly, and that sweet little boy I raised shines through again. "You know, I'm not surprised that you've been having some trouble. You're kind of stubborn when you don't want to admit that you're wrong, or that you're not strong and capable of taking care of yourself and me. If I'd known this was part of your problem, I would have told you before."

"Wh-What are you saying, Henry?"

"You and Ma. I may not be fourteen yet, but it's been obvious for a couple years now. Even Gramma and Grampa have talked about it when they thought I wasn't paying attention."

This revelation hits nearly as hard as my own earlier. Is my love life the subject of town gossi-- Oh wait! Snow White is my stepdaughter. Of course, it is. Sighing, I cup Henry's cheeks in my hands and kiss his forehead.

"You _do_ realize that I'm going to have a long talk with your grandparents about this, and it will include turning you in for eavesdropping, right?" He nods and gives me that same lopsided grin that I can finally admit I find so adorable on his other mother. "All right. I won't be punishing you this time, but they might. You'll take it like a grown up, no matter what they give you, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I did the crime, so I'll do the time."

My own nose wrinkles up as I chuckle at him. "You sound entirely too much like Emma right now."

"I miss her, too, Mom," he says, hugging me again. "So you're gonna maybe be better now? Not so tense and exhausted?"

"I hope so, but I have no idea. The battle is still raging between me and the Dark One to get Emma back, and I'll fight for her with everything in me."

When I yawn, he smiles and kisses my cheek. "You should get some sleep, Mom. And put a cool cloth on your eyes. They're kinda red and puffy."

"I will. You can have your half an hour of comics before bed tonight. And I'll make you waffles with bacon again in the morning. Is that okay?"

He grins and nods, kissing my cheek again, then hugs me tightly. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Henry."

He heads toward his bedroom then, a grin still on his face. Once he's gone, I take a deep, slow breath and get up to assess the damage my breakdown has wreaked on my poor face. The sight of that single word on my mirror pulls me up short, knocking the breath from me, but I force myself to remain calm. Archie saw it, and got photographic proof, so I know it's real.

And then it hits me. I don't care how exhausted I am right now; I need to give it one more try before I let the Dark One use me as a punching bag tonight. Turning on the shower, I let the water heat up the bathroom as I head back into my bedroom. I quickly add in details of tonight's _adventure_ to my journal while the water runs. Once thirty minutes have passed, and I've been writing like a madwoman -- thank you, magic, for allowing me to do that -- I lean down to retrieve the precious bundle entrusted in my care. Setting it on the bed, I take out the dagger, then slip into the jacket. I need all of the support I can get this time. The leather feels supple and reassuringly heavy on my body, and it smells like Emma.

Stepping into the bathroom, I use magic to turn off the shower, not wanting to get the jacket wet, then I face the mirror, dagger held up in my hand. Closing my eyes to center, I take a deep breath before opening them again to stare at the blade in my hand.

"I summon thee, Dark One. Emma Swan, I command you to appear here before me."

I count to one hundred, then two hundred, but she doesn't show up. There's not even any writing appearing on the mirror. Frustration takes over, but I don't want to seem like I'm throwing a temper tantrum. That won't accomplish anything but get me taunted and beaten up more in the Dark One's lair later tonight.

"Damn it, Emma! Quit being such a stubborn child! I _need_ you to be here. I need you to work with me in _this_ world for the first time since you sacrificed yourself for me." My grip tightens on the hilt of the blade. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to admit my feelings to Archie without actually saying anything? All right, fine! Emma Swan, I command you to appear here before me so I can tell you that I have been too terrified and stubborn to admit that I love you and need you in my life. I am fighting for you because _I love you_ , you idiot!"

"Well, it's about damned time that you admit it."

Just the sound of that voice behind me steals my breath away again. The mirror is still fogged up, so I can't see if she's really there or not, so I force myself to turn around. There, lounging against the doorframe, is Emma in that same dirty off-white sweater and painted on black skinny jeans.

"My jacket looks good on you. And you're welcome for it, by the way."

Holding the dagger down at my side, I launch myself at her, needing to feel her and know she's real. Her arms wrap around my waist as mine echo the movement around hers.

"You're really here," I murmur, the words barely more than an exhalation against her neck.

"I'm really here," she replies, cheek rubbing against my hair. "I would have been here sooner, but someone was being really stubborn about admitting the _whole_ truth to the Dark One _and_ to herself."

I pull back to stare at her then. "What are you saying? You _knew_ how I felt?" And then I punch her in the arm. "Then why did you sacrifice yourself for my happy ending, you idiot?" Pulling away from her, I head into the bedroom to start pacing again, arms curled around my stomach protectively. "You could've given me a hint, you know."

For a long moment or two, she says nothing, but I can feel her eyes on me while I continue pacing. There's a hunger to her stare, but it's not quite enough to scare me, not like when the Dark One stalks me in Her lair. The sensation is both comforting and enervating. And then strong arms wrap around me from behind, a solid body pulling me back into her support. One arm goes around my waist, the other molds itself along my arm holding the dagger. Her chin rests on my shoulder, lips so close to my ear that I can feel her breath wafting past as she whispers, "Turn around, Regina. I'll explain, but let me look at you first."

Unable to resist her request, I turn to face her, the dagger pressed between our bodies. Whether it's for protection or to bind us closer together, I'll probably never know. Tears fill my eyes as I see the mossy green of hers marred by swirls of black, like the darkness that took her away from me, the darkness that she and I have been battling for three months now to regain control of her body and soul. I'm unable to speak for a moment as she begins to softly explain.

"I couldn't tell you outright what you needed to do to get me back here," she says, wiping at the wet tracks on my cheeks. "It was part of the deal with the Dark One. The best I could do was leave you little clues that I _was_ trying to come to you. And when you finally could admit that you had feelings for me--"

I cut off her words then, unable to restrain myself from branding her with a sloppy, needy kiss. That it also attempts to cover my shame and cowardice at not being fully honest sooner is an added bonus. Her lips feel soft against mine, parting easily as if she's been wanting this for even longer than I have. I want to deepen the kiss, but reluctantly pull back to rest my forehead against hers for a moment.

"Wait. I-- I can't do this. You told Hook you loved him. He told me enough times, as if it gave him the right to control the dagger, and you."

She sighs softly, hands gently massaging my lower back. "I did tell him that." When I start to speak, she shifts to press a finger to my lips. "Right before I told him that I'm not _in_ love with him, and never have been. And then I broke it off with him." She gives me that sweet, sheepish smile like the first night I met her. "And then I sacrificed myself for _your_ happy ending."

"Oh…"

"And you and Robin? I know he was your True--"

"No, he wasn't. Tinkerbelle said the pixie dust would show me my soulmate, but I don't think it was right. Or maybe it was only right if I acted on it that first night in the tavern, but he's never put me first once. He and I split up not long after you were taken by the darkness."

"I'm sorry, Regina."

"The only thing you should be sorry for is taking away my happy ending by sacrificing yourself to that damned cursed dagger."

"I know. I thought I was doing the right thing. I knew I had feelings for you, but I honestly thought Robin was your happy ending. I didn't want you to lose everything you'd worked so hard to get just to be consumed by the Dark One's curse."

Sighing, I lean up to kiss her gently. "You really _are_ the product of True Love between the two idiots. You inherited all of your father's charming heroic traits and all of your mother's stubbornness. So what do we do now?"

"I don't know. The Dark One's not pleased that you bested Her by being fully honest finally. That's how I could come back to Storybrooke, but She still controls me in so many ways. We still need to go back and fight Her every night, but now we can do it _together_."

"We're stronger when we're together," I say with a smile. "I seem to remember someone telling me that on more than one occasion in the past."

She chuckles and nods, then cups my cheek as I yawn loudly. "I think it's time for you to sleep now, Regina."

"But I won't actually sleep. The Dark One will take me off to battle again."

"No, She won't. Tonight is a safe night because you made your admission. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And yes, the dagger is safe with you. I _want_ you to keep control of it."

"All right. You stay here and find some pajamas in the middle left drawer of the dresser. I'll go put this in safe keeping, then I'll be right back."

When she nods and presses a quick kiss to my temple, I head downstairs to my office. The dagger and the jacket go into the safe, which gets spelled by blood magic. The only other person in this entire town that could crack it is safely locked up as she gestates my niece or nephew. That settled, I return to the bedroom, blushing as I realize I'm only in my robe. Emma is brushing her teeth in the bathroom, one finger ghosting over the word still on the mirror. I take the time to put on my own pajamas, then join her in the bathroom to brush my own teeth.

"I didn't mean to break the glass," she says softly, "or to scare you as badly as I did."

"We'll talk about it in the morning, Emma."

I quickly finish with my teeth, then lead her into the bedroom again. We crawl under the covers, bodies gravitating toward each other more easily, now that there's nothing stopping us from being together. She curls up against my back, big spoon to my little, and wraps her arms around my waist.

"Just rest now, Regina. I'm here and you're safe now."

"I'm making waffles and bacon for Henry in the morning. Will you be here to see him?"

"If all goes well, I'll be here for a long time to come."

With that thought in mind, I let my eyes drift shut and sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

"Rise and shine, gorgeous."

Emma's perky voice is too much for me this morning. In the month and a half that we've been together since the night I finally admitted my feelings, life has been pretty incredible. Yes, we still go to battle the Dark One in Her lair, but working as a team has us winning and earning nights off far more often than anyone would have thought possible. The new deal is that not only do we get nights off when we win, we also get more information from the Dark One about the curse and the previous people who've _inherited_ the position. Reul Ghorm has actually been quite pleased by the influx of information, even if it comes from me, but she's not pleased that I am still in charge of the dagger and the main journals and database for Dark One knowledge.

"Daylight's a-wastin', Regina," she says, voice clearly taking on a whiny tone that I recognize from Henry's childhood. "You promised we could go do a day at the beach today."

Sighing, I crack one eye open to squint at the alarm clock. "Emma, it's barely five in the morning on a Saturday. Henry's not even up yet. Besides, the beach is less than five miles from this house. We'll have plenty of time to get there and have fun." I reach blindly for her. "Come back to bed. I'm lonely and want to cuddle."

I don't even have to look at her to know she's rolling her eyes at me. Sometimes it's hard to tell which one is the adult: Emma or Henry. But she still crawls into bed with me, spooning up behind me as her hand slips under the hem of my pajama top to settle against the skin of my belly. The sensation is a calming one and I start to drift back to sleep. I'm almost out when her hand begins to move in small circles that slowly expand outward until she's cupping my breast, thumb rubbing my hardening nipple.

"This is hardly conducive to sleeping, Emma," I mutter, chest arching into her touch.

"Maybe if you let me wear off a little excess energy, I'll be able to sleep better again?"

She gives me that shy smile again, even as mischief dances in her eyes. I know better than to try to ignore her when she's like this. Besides, I like making her work for it just a little bit. Letting out what sounds like a put-upon sigh, I roll over onto my back and kiss her gently.

"You're an insatiable idiot, but I love you anyway."

She grins and kisses me again, shifting to straddle my hips as she magically removes my clothes. My fingers tangle in her hair, not wanting to end the kiss just yet. This allows her the ability to tease both of my nipples to full stiffness. Emma kisses her way down the column of my throat, leaving a trail of marks behind that mark me as hers. At first, I hated them, but I learned to cherish the fact that she loves me enough to want everyone else to see it.

When her lips surround a nipple, I tighten my grip on her hair to hold her in place. Her tongue begins to trace intricate love letters to me against my nipple in languages that have been dead for centuries, millennia even. Sometimes there are perks to being the Dark One, and that knowledge of long-dead languages happens to be one of them. The first time she did it, she made me come just by repeating _"Emma loves Regina"_ over and over again on my left nipple. When she does it on my clit? Well, there's a reason we have a magical sound dampening spell on our room.

Emma pulls back to tug my hands up over my head, swirling a bit of her harnessed Dark One magic around them as she says, "These stay up here. If they move, you're left hanging without an orgasm."

I nod eagerly, enjoying this game immensely, and lick my lips in anticipation. She kisses me hungrily, then darkens that trail of marks down the side of my neck before latching onto a nipple to torment me again. My body writhes beneath hers, but my hands stay in place, no matter what it takes to do it. Her fingernails gently scratch up and down my sides and thighs, ramping up my need.

Just as she nips her way down to settle between my thighs for another teasing calligraphy lesson, as she calls it, the door opens up.

"Hey, Moms! Are you ready for-- Oh my god!"

My eyes fly open to stare at the back of our son's head, noting the crimson crawling up his neck into his hairline. Emma, of course, is laughing into my thigh. She's fully dressed and mostly under the covers, whereas I'm spread-eagle and squirming beneath her.

"Henry! Knock on the door first!"

"Ma didn't leave a sock on the doorknob," he whines, still not turning around. "I thought it was safe. I just wanted to know when we're going to the beach, that's all."

This gets Emma laughing even harder. Oh, payback's going to be a bitch tonight when we get home. I clear my throat and try to sound more normal. "Go back to bed or take a shower or something. We'll be done in a little while, then I'll make breakfast before we go."

" _Please_ take a shower first, okay?" he says, then closes the door before I can answer him.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" I ask my lover, narrowing my eyes at her. "You wanted to traumatize him _and_ me once again."

"He was being a little shit last night about making sure we weren't up too late fooling around because he wanted to leave bright and early, too. So I decided to teach him a lesson." She waggles her eyebrows at me, then licks her lips. "And I believe I was interrupted in starting my calligraphy lesson. May I get back to it, my queen?"

Sucking in a breath as she brushes her lips across my clit, I nod. "F-Far be it from me to keep you from perfecting your skills."

No, we may not have a perfect life, but what we have is absolute heaven to me. And that thought becomes the last coherent one I have before Emma's tongue starts tracing its letters over and over as she drives me toward the first of who knows how many climaxes on this fine Saturday morning.


End file.
